


Time Desk: The Chronicles of Dean Dangerous

by Little_Annie_Adderall



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Greendale, Jazz Age, M/M, Scavenger hunt prompt, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27541177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Annie_Adderall/pseuds/Little_Annie_Adderall
Summary: AKA "Chapter 2: The Hunt"Ripped from the sure to be self-published pages ofDean Dangerous. This overly stylized garbage is written by Craig Pelton himself – and, eventually, some ghost writers who think they have better ideas. With the help of his trusty sidekicks, Dean Dangerous embarks on a scavenger hunt that spans the millennia. The goal: Rescue his one true love (Jeffrey) from the villainous clutches of a nefarious bad gal. The outcome: Subpar. The study group's response to their inclusion in said novel: Underwhelming.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger, Dean Craig Pelton/Jeff Winger
Comments: 20
Kudos: 34
Collections: Community Discord Scavenger Hunt





	Time Desk: The Chronicles of Dean Dangerous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CeleryLapel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeleryLapel/gifts).



> This piece is in response to the Community Discord server fanfic channel prompt "The Set Up." I took a lot of leeway with the scavenger hunt concept, so it's not necessary to read that chapter first, but I still recommend it! You should also check out the responses so far from our channel's MINDBLOWINGLY talented writers. They're true inspirations.

# Time Desk:

# The Chronicles of Dean Dangerous

### By Craig Isidore Pelton

Dedication Page:

 _This work is dedicated to my best friends in the whole world: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison, Troy Barnes, Abed Nadir, Shirley Bennett, and Pierce Hawthorne. If it wasn't for their_ tireless, unwavering _loyalty, sassy quips, and exceptionally chiseled pectorals,_ Dean Dangerous _would have been an uninspired mess._

_Oh, Britta's in this too._

* * *

**Chapter 1 **

Hundreds of papers lay scattered across the heavy mahogany desk. Research books were strewn across the black and white rug.

A map of the world hung on one wall of the elegant office, circles scrawled across it in permanent marker. Stuck on the other wall were dozens of pictures and post-it notes, connected by strings of yarn.

"I'm missing something. I must be missing something!"

Dean Dangerous hunkered over his desk in the dim light of a single lamp. He crumpled up yet another sheet of paper and tossed it over his shoulder to the growing pile of scraps behind him.

Dean Dangerous was renown across the globe and throughout the epochs for his bravery, intelligence, dashing good looks, and crime-solving skills. By day, he was the humble leader of Greendale Community College, the best school in the entire world.

But by other days, he was the foremost expert on interdimensional crime solving and other spy stuff for the United Government of Earth.

On this particular day, he wore both hats. Neither of which were borrowed from his sister.

Deep in thought, Dean Dangerous stroked an extra thick cigar with both hands before putting it to his lips, closing his eyes, and sucking a long drag. Nothing was ever able to calm him quite like the taste of a thick cigar.

"Oh, Contessa," he sighed heavily, pulling a worn photo from beneath a stack of stuff. "Speak to me, my friendly foe. What are you up to now?"

It was an old timey photo. Like something from an Old Timey Photo Club. Front and center were Dean Dangerous and Contessa – his gender fluid clone. Both men were adorned in the finest of Roaring 20s Flapper attire, complete with bejeweled skirts, bobbed wigs, and feather boas.

From the photo, it wasn't entirely clear which one was the gender fluid clone. But it hardly mattered. As was Eve made from Adam's rib, so was Contessa made from the Dean's. They had been partners in crime-fighting, world-saving, and – occasionally – love.

That was, until evil rose.

Word of Dean Dangerous and Contessa's fame had spread like wildfire through the temporal realms. And threatened by the patriarchy that at least two-sevenths of their bond represented, Brittania – an ancient sorceress hated by all – had stolen a magical time turner, ripped a hole in the space time continuum, kidnapped Contessa, and poisoned his mind against the Dean.

It was madness! And pointlessly confusing. But then again, nothing Brittania did ever made sense.

They spent the next two decades chasing each other through time… the Dean trying to rescue Contessa, and Contessa trying to destroy both the Dean and the mad science that created him. They became sworn enemies bent on mutual destruction. But then one day, Contessa vanished.

Now, the Dean knew the time was ripe for a reemergence of this villain. He didn't know how. He didn't know _when_. But he would be ready.

The door to the study creaked open, and a sultry voice growled through the darkness.

"Come to bed, _Dangerous_."

The sight of his lover's body framed in the doorway – just a bare-chested mass of rippling muscles – brought the Dean more contentment than the adulation of a school full of adoring ~~disciples~~ students ever could.

"Nothing would make me happier, my pet," the Dean sighed heavily, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "But the weight of the world is on my shoulders."

"Let me rub those shoulders then." Jeffrey padded barefoot across the Dalmatian-skin rug.

The Dean melted as Jeffrey's fingers expertly massaged from his neck all the way down his arms.

"Sigh, that feels good."

"You're so tense," Jeffrey murmured. "And it's no wonder. You've been driving yourself crazy theorizing Contessa's next move! We haven't made love in days!"

"The thing about time travel," the Dean said passionately, "is that there is never enough time to figure out the timing! I can't afford to be unprepared. What if Contessa returns and something happens and I lose you forever? No, I must figure out what he and Brittania are up to. And put a stop to it _before_ it begins. It's the only way to protect you."

"You'll never lose me. And last I checked, it was _my_ job to protect _you_. I'm your bodyguard. That's how we met. Remember?"

"How could I forget meeting the manliest man I've ever laid eyes on?"

"Maybe it's time to remind you how manly I am." Jeffrey bent down to whisper enticingly in the Dean's ear. "Take a little break."

The Dean trembled and took Jeffrey's scruffy face in his hands. "Oh how can I resist you?"

He let all the responsibilities of the world fall away as Jeffrey picked him up and carried him into their bedroom.

After hours of passionate lovemaking, Jeffrey lay fast asleep in a tangle of sweaty sheets. The Dean took another drag on his thick cigar and Jeffrey stirred, nuzzling his bare arm.

"Shhh," the Dean whispered, stroking him tenderly. "This time _I_ will protect _you_. My truest love. Nothing can separate us now."

* * *

"I can't read this anymore." Jeff shoved the manuscript away from him.

Annie caught the half-typed, half-scribbled pages of _Time Desk: The Chronicles of Dean Dangerous_ before they slid off the study room table. " _Jeff_ , we _just_ started."

"He's using my _real name_ , Annie," Jeff paced angrily across the floor. "He didn't even change my name!"

"He didn't have to," Abed chimed in. "It's in the Greendale bylaws. All students automatically accept to be used by the dean as he sees fit."

"That can't be real." Britta crinkled her nose.

Troy looked haunted. "Oh, it's real."

"This _whole_ _thing_ is _defamation_!" Jeff exclaimed, fuming.

"Hey!" Pierce appeared in the doorway. "Vultures! What are you doing?"

"Could ask _you_ the same thing," Shirley replied. "Why was there a copy of the dean's book sticking out of your binder?"

"I have a friend over at Random House in New York. I told the dean I'd do him a little favor and get this vanity project published."

"That's awful nice of you…" Britta narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah since when are you and the dean so close?" Troy asked.

"Pierce," Jeff interrupted. "You're sending this to New York?"  
  
"Yes," he said, trying to snatch the manuscript from Annie's hands. She hopped out of the way and stuffed it down her shirt.

Pierce peered over the rim of his glasses. "I'm not afraid to go down there."

"Blech," Annie grimaced and handed the manuscript over.

"How are you sending it?" Jeff prodded. "Do you have a digital copy, too?"

"I have this thing." Pierce pulled a memory stick out of his shirt pocket. "I forget what it's called…"

"Give me that." Jeff snatched the USB flash drive and lumbered around to the other side of the study room.

"Jeff… what are you planning…"

Ignoring Annie, Jeff grabbed Britta's bag from beneath her chair and started rummaging through it.

"Hey!" Britta went on a long-winded rant about privacy as the constitutionally protected right of every tax-paying American and the dangers of unreasonable searches and seizures leading to a civil society teetering on the edge of North Korean dictatorships.

Jeff pulled out her laptop, flipped it open on the study table…

"Please, Britta. Like you pay taxes."

…popped in the memory stick, and started clicking around. "Pierce, your contact at Random House hasn't seen this yet, right?"

"Right."

Jeff grinned. "Then we can rewrite it."

The group exploded in a mixed response of encouragement and protestation. Jeff ignored them all, eyes flicking back and forth as he scrolled through the excessively long Word document.

"You can't be serious," Annie scoffed. "Jeff. You're a lawyer…"

"A scummy lawyer," Troy joked.

Eyes still glued to the screen, Jeff snapped an approving finger gun in Troy's direction.

"…You know stealing someone else's work is illegal!"

Jeff finally looked up from the screen. "I'm not _stealing_ his work, Annie. I'm improving it. People get paid to do that every day. I'm doing it for free. If anything, I'm being charitable."

He turned his attention back to the Word document.

"I'm sorry, Jeff, but there is a line, and this is…"

Before she could finish, Jeff snorted. "You may change your tune after meeting _your_ character."

Brow furrowed, Annie reached for the laptop. "Let me see that."

* * *

** Chapter 2 **

Dean Dangerous awoke from his slumber to a pounding on the bedroom door. He had tossed and turned for half the night to be so rudely awakened like this?

"Don't TELL me I tossed and turned half the night to be so rudely awakened like this!"

"Sir!" His butler Piercenald's bumbling voice stammered through the closed door. "Come quick. A package came overnight. It seems important!"

The Dean rolled his eyes and reached over for Jeffrey. The bed was empty and cold. Hmm. He must already be out for his grueling – but God-sent – 3-hour-and-14-minute morning fitness regimen.

When the Dean entered his mansion's formal living room a few minutes later, Annie looked up concerned. Annie was his assistant at Greendale. She was a mousy little thing with stringy brown hair, a flat chest, and a penchant for hysterics.

This morning, the poor girl seemed more on edge than usual.

"Annie, what's wrong?"

She pushed a pair of thick glasses higher up on her pale nose and pointed toward a large envelope on the table.

Curious, the Dean stepped forward and ripped the envelope open. Out fell a stopwatch and one sheet of loose-leaf paper. He shook the large envelope upside down. Nothing else came out.

"That's all that's in here? What a waste of non-recyclable paper. Shipping companies these days. They're just so irresponsible with their packing. Let's say a little prayer for the planet."

Annie picked up the sheet of paper and gasped.

"What is it?" He snatched it from her and with his own gasp, clutched his chest. "My archrival. Scourge of the Earth. It can only be him."

"What does it say?" Piercenald asked.

Dean Dangerous handed the paper to him. He read it out loud.

***

_Listen carefully!_

_At this time, I have the one thing you hold most dear in my possession. If you ever want to see him again, you must play my game. Below are the first of 25 clues. Follow them carefully through the temporal continuum. If you don't find all 25, your lover dies. And so does everyone else on the planet._

_The first clue: I am sturdy and flat. I am where the work is done before you go have any fun._

_The second clue: I have keys, but I don't lock anything. I write but I don't think. I make a moderate amount of noise and am incredibly useful._

_Solve these riddles, and your third clue will be revealed._

_Good luck, Dangerous. Or not._

_Victory!_

***

Annie sobbed. It was, in a word, revolting. "Did he… did he… did he take… Jeffrey?"

"Pull yourself together, woman," Piercenald scolded. "The very fate of the world is in Dean Dangerous's hands! Let him think!"

Stroking his chiseled chin, the dean paced the rug in front of the roaring fireplace. "Based on my extensive studies of time traveling criminal masterminds, there is only one set of possible answers to these riddles. The first item is the most obvious. Sturdy and flat? Where the work is done before you go have any fun?"

Piercenald pointed emphatically at Annie. "It's her! She's the first clue!"

She gasped louder this time and – needlessly, because there, again, wasn't anything to cover – covered her chest with both hands. " _Piercenald_!"

"That was the first thing I thought, too," the dean nodded. "But in this case, it's… the time desk."

"To the time desk!" Annie and Piercenald shouted in unison!

The dean cocked one eyebrow and squinted his all-knowing eyes. "I hope your bags are packed. Because we're about to tackle the cruelest mistress of all… Time."

** Chapter 3 **

Dean Dangerous, Piercenald, and Annie raced to the heavy mahogany desk in the study. They all grabbed onto it and raised their eyes heavenwards.

"WOULD THAT THIS DESK WERE A TIME DESK!" Dean Dangerous shouted.

The desk shook and a complicated set of pulleys and levers emerged from the drawers, connected to a digital temporal coordinates clock.

"But where are we going?"

"Remember where we first chased the ancient sorceress Brittania when she took Contessa from me all those years ago?"

Annie's eyes lit up like she knew the answer. "No!"

The dean groaned. "It's the second clue. _I have keys, but I don't lock anything. I write but I don't think. I make a moderate amount of noise and am incredibly useful._ It's Brittania's old hideout! That booze-ridden, drug-infested, artificial intelligence piano bar!"

"I don't get it," Piercenald said. "How does that answer the riddle?"

"Ugh," the Dean groaned again. "Why are you two so useless. The piano has keys – but they're for music not locking things. It's an AI piano so it writes its own music but doesn't ACTUALLY think like a human. It makes noise, and the bar's useful because of the lady who sings there… You know, Brittania's former accomplice."

"A-ha!"

"You're a genius, Dean Dangerous! What would we do without you?"

"Nothing very well…" he muttered under his breath. "Now hold on!"

They planted their hands firmly on the desktop, and the dean plugged the temporal coordinates into the digital temporal coordinates clock. The room spun into a dizzying blur and with a THUMP, they landed in a dingy back office.

They were now dressed in the finest of dashing, jazz-era attire. The dean admired himself in the mirror on the office door. This was a good look. One of his best. If only Jeffrey could see him now.

But his satisfied smile faded when he caught sight of Annie in the mirror, too. The flapper dress and heels somehow did nothing for her. She primped her bushy hair and adjusted her glasses. Smiling with buck teeth that he had never noticed before, she asked proudly, "How do I look?"

"Um, I'd rather not say."

Turning away as quickly as he could, Dean Dangerous threw open the door and sidled into the dimly lit piano bar. Jazz music wafted through the cigarette smoke. The gentlemen (and ladies) in the establishment were dressed to the 20s – decked out in beading, sequins, metallic thread, velvet, ruffled skirts, tiered layers, crochet, and lace.

A waiter approached.

"Table for 3," Dean Dangerous said.

"Right this way, ma'am."

The dean brushed the feather headband out of his eyes and wiggled his brows at the waiter, following him to a small table right next to the piano.

"There she is…"

 _My name is Madame Shirley_.

Madame Shirley sang jazzily. Kind of like Catherine Zeta-Jones in _Chicago_.

_I have a clue for youuuuu_

_Before you go a traipsing  
_ _Through a time portal or two_

 _Listen to me closely  
_ _Heed my every word_

 _If you want the man you love then  
_ _Thiiis sooong iiiis foooor youuuuuuuuu_

But before she could say anymore, the temporal continuum ripped open and a gust of wind sucked her in.

Dean Dangerous sprang into action, grabbing onto Madame Shirley's wrists. But the force of the temporal rip was too strong. "Help!" he shouted over the roaring winds.

Annie jumped up from her chair. "Thankfully my lack of hotness means I have to make up for it with other character traits! Like superhuman strength! It's a classic plot device!" And she scurried over to help.

"Madame Shirley!" Dean Dangerous called. "What's our clue?!"

They could barely hear her next words over the din of the storm. "This is your clue! My words number quite many. My title, you will discover, is explained under my cover. Now goodbye foreverrrrrrrr."

And with that, the rip in the temporal continuum closed. Madame Shirley was gone.

* * *

Annie's "pfft"s, "psha"s, and insulted huffs got pitchier with every line she read. 

Jeff – leaning over her shoulder – snickered at each increasingly indignant reaction. 

"So, do you want to be immortalized as prepubescent Mia Thermopolis or are you up for a little rewrite?"

"If anyone should be re-writing this, it's me," Pierce said indignantly. "Am I even in the story anymore?"

Britta scanned the page. "Yes," she said. "Look, it says here, 'Piercenald nodded mutely.'"

"Unbelievable. Completely underutilized."

Pierce leaned across the table and slid the laptop toward him. Cracking his knuckles and stretching dramatically, he settled in. "OK, here's how that scene should have gone…"

* * *

**An Improved Chapter 3 **

Piercenald led the way over to a small table right next to the piano.

" _Garçon_!" he called to the waiter, gesturing gallantly around the dim bar. "Drinks! Drinks for everyone! On me!"

The patrons cheered, and he waved royally to the adoring crowd. Then – straightening his expensive, perfectly-tailored Italian pinstriped suit – Piercenald's demeanor turned somber. He took a seat, eyes locked on the buxom broad singing into the microphone.

The dean looked solemnly down at his ratty night robe. "I feel so underdressed," he said. "I really should have worn my feather boa… I mean headband… I mean fedora."

Annie – still a little mousy and anxious, but in a sweet way not a nerdy way, and definitely bustier than before – sipped on her gin and tonic. "What now, boss?"

"Now, we get the truth out of Madame Shirley…"

As if on cue, Madame Shirley belted out one final high note that shattered the windows of every heart in the place. Then twirling the microphone between those tempting, bejeweled fingers, she sashayed over to the small table.

"Piercenald," she murmured.

" _Ma chérie_ ," he kissed her hand. "You're as radiant as the day we met."

She batted her eyes and spoke with bated breath. "You got here quick."

"Are you surprised? I'm always… quick."

She giggled. "I remember."

"OK…" the dean grimaced.

"Enough of the pleasantries, you enchantress," Piercenald grew serious. "Tell me where Brittania and Contessa are."

Madame Shirley turned her face away with a pained look. "What makes you think I'd know?"

Piercenald wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

"Oh!" she cried.

"Don't play coy with me, sugar lips. Not after everything we've been through."

"Fine!" She threw her head back, her gaze full of raw need. "You've worked it out of me! They were here, alright? They were here!"

"When?"

"Does it matter?" Annie asked. "This is time travel. Isn't the 'when' irrelevant?"

"Shut up, sidekick," Piercenald grumbled.

"Not long ago," Madame Shirley continued. "They had a man with them. A very weak, very gay looking man. He clearly didn't work out at all. They went through that time portal over there."

"To the time portal!" The three travelers rushed over there.

"Wait!" Shirley called after them. She held one arm out imploringly. "Take me with you."

Piercenald cocked his fedora at a dashing angle and replied, "You know I can't do that, my dear. You and I… we're a fantasy. A timeless fantasy. But I'm too much man for you. And no woman can ever tie me down."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know."

* * *

Shirley's frown had never been so disapproving. "I disagree that's how that should have gone."

"That was…" Troy couldn't finish his sentence.

Pierce beamed. "I know."

"That was great," Abed said, to everyone's surprise. "I can really see that popping on screen. But you didn't link Madame Shirley's response to any clues. This is supposed to be a scavenger hunt. Now we don't know where Brittania and Contessa took Jeffrey."

Troy whispered something in Abed's ear. They nodded at each other, and Troy took his turn at the laptop.

"I've got this."

* * *

** Chapter 4**

"Madame Shirley!" Dean Dangerous called. "What's our clue?!"

They could barely hear her next words over the din of the storm. "This is your clue! My words number quite many. My title, you will discover, is explained under my cover. Now goodbye foreverrrrrrrr."

And with that, the rip in the temporal continuum closed. Madame Shirley was gone.

"What do you think that means?" Pierce asked.

"A book, obviously," Annie scoffed, in a tone that implied she knew she was good at everything.

"Not necessarily," Pierce retorted. "Could be a person who talks a lot and has a job title and uncovers themselves. A stripper! A politician!"

"You're wrong," Dean Dangerous said dangerously. "I know who it is. To find them, we must go back… to the future… of the _past_."

And with that, he walked off toward the time desk.

"Looks like you're not good at _everything_ ," Pierce chuckled, satisfied.

Annie rolled her eyes. "We'll see."

***

Lightning cracked against the cold, dark night sky and rain pummeled Dean Dangerous, Piercenald, and Annie as they approached the mansion. It looked like Doc Brown's house from _Back to the Future_. But it obviously wasn't. It really did look just like it though.

They pounded on the door and it immediately opened to reveal a man in super sexy clothes. He kind of looked like a vampire.

"It's a cold, dark night for mere mortals such as yourselves to roam these woods," he said.

"Troy, seriously, move. I'm getting wet." Annie brush past her companions into the house.

" _Yeah_ you are," Troy grinned.

"Ugh, gross."

An incredibly life-like android walked into the parlor. "Abedetron!" Dean Dangerous exclaimed. "Good, you're both here."

"I know why you're here." Abedetron spoke like Data in _Star Trek_. "For the next clue."

"Wait," Piercenald held both hands up as he tried to work through this. "How are a vampire and a robot the answer to Madame Shirley's riddle?"

"Because of this." Abed held out a thousand-page book called _How the Ancient Sorceress Brittania Stole Our Magic Time Turner… and How to Make Sure It Doesn't Happen to You_. "This book is what Madame Shirley's clue led you to."

Annie gave Piercenald a meaningful look.

"Whatever," he mumbled.

The dean stroked the book's cover. "I know you knew Brittania from way back…"

"And therefore, also from way forwards. And sideways? We know her from all the times. Time travel is really hard to write about."

"…but I didn't know it's _your_ time turner that gives her her power!"

"Yeeeah," Troy explained. "We invented the time turner in 2847 and did a lot of time hopping and space hopping. We invented a really cool TV show about it. But when we hopped back here to 'Before Christ' times…"

"It's actually BCE – 'before common era,'" Annie interrupted.

"Who asked you? Anyway, Brittania stole the time turner. It gave her all these powers and stuff. And we couldn't build a new one because we don't have the technology. So now we're just stuck here living in this baller house surrounded by cavemen."

"I feel like there are some inconsistencies in that…"

* * *

"This is taking forever," Jeff groaned, snatching the laptop back from Troy. "Let's just skip to the end…"

"Hey! I was just getting to the good part!" Troy protested.

Jeff resumed a seemingly endless scroll through the Word document.

"Typical Jeff." Britta rolled her eyes. "Skipping straight to his big climax at the end, not minding whether anybody else has _finished_ _their_ part in the process."

Annie gasped. "Britta!"

"I'm telling you, Annie. Keep your expectations low."

"Here we go," Jeff said triumphantly, finding a part of the book he was FINALLY in. "OK, everyone is at Brittania and Contessa's evil hideout. Annie, I'll dictate, you type."

"Wha-? Why don't you do it?"

"I would, but you're just better at typing than I am." He shrugged. "Something about small finger dexterity."

"Aww."

Britta stuck her finger down her throat. "Gag."

"Plus, you're faster than me," Jeff continued.

"Pffft," Britta chortled. "Nobody's faster than you, Jeff. That's my point."

"Except me," Pierce piped up.

"Not something to be proud of, Pierce."

* * *

** Chapter 26 **

Dean Dangerous, Annie, Piercenald, Troy, an Abedetron burst into the belfry at the top of Big Ben. Below them, they heard the ticking of the clock face and the distant bustle of ponies and carts.

Jeff – shirtless, bloodied, and battered – hung from the tongue of the great bell. His arms and legs tied to the heavy rope.

"There he is!" Annie shouted, leading the charge across the tower floor.

Jeff raised his head, eyes glinting. He may be beaten. He may be tortured. And what happened to him now may not matter. But nothing would keep him from saving his friends.

"No!" he warned. "Don't come any closer!"

"Not so fast." The ancient sorceress Brittania emerged from behind a pillar. The five rescuers halted in their tracks, hands up in surrender.

Brittania was clad in a sultry blue robe, tied together by a single sash. It was vaguely 19th century but more Victoria's Secret. Her blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders in an elegant waterfall. And in her hand, she held a switch.

On anybody else, the outfit would have been, without a doubt, incredibly hot. But Brittania just came across as cold, bitter, and too domineeringly opinionated. Opinionated, mature, self-possessed, intelligent young women were the best kind. Of course. But Brittania seemed like she had stupid opinions that she probably never actually acted on and just spent the whole time criticizing others for disagreeing with.

Contessa emerged from behind another pillar. "Don't listen to him, boys. Oh, and girl. You really should come closer."

Contessa was wearing a black, full length ballgown, shimmering with sequins and what looked like six-inch heels. Dean Dangerous gave him a once-over that was only half-disapproving.

It still wasn't clear _which_ was the gender-fluid clone.

Brittania grinned mischievously. "Welcome to my lair, Dangerous. Do you like my new… pet?"

She traced the switch down Jeffrey's jaw line and then whipped his cheek with it. The blow stung, but he flinched only just enough to prove to the others he could withstand the pain.

"Don't touch him!" Annie and the dean cried out in unison.

The dean turned to her. "What do you care?"

She avoided his gaze. "I don't."

He arched an eyebrow but turned back to Brittania. "You turned Contessa against me once. And you thought you could do it again. But you're wrong! The bond Jeffrey and I have goes beyond perfectly replicated genetic code! We sing _karaoke_ together."

Jeffrey had so many retorts to that but bit his lip. The longer Dean Dangerous kept Brittania and Contessa focused on him, the more time Jeffrey had to free himself from these bonds.

"You underestimate me," Brittania smirked.

"No!" the dean bellowed. " _You_ underestimate _me_! I solved your riddles, Brittania. I crossed through the vast perils of time and space to get here. Now give me my prize."

She snorted. "You think Jeffrey is your prize?"

One of the restraints binding Jeffrey's hands finally broke free. The rope of the great bell swung slightly as his weight shifted. He caught Annie's eye across the belfry floor and bobbed his head toward the free hand. She winked almost imperceptibly.

The dean sputtered. "Isn't he?"

"Ha!" Brittania cackled. "I didn't send you on an interdimensional scavenger hunt for the fun of it. I did it to get you here. Because once you're here… away from your precious Greendale and your _stupid_ time desk… you're just a craigular joe. And I can finally _destroy you_. That's your prize! _Death!_ "

"Ahhhh!" Piercenald lunged at Brittania. She sidestepped and put him in a headlock. It was way too easy.

"Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news," the dean replied, unfazed. "Especially when I don't have my bearer of bad news outfit."

He paused and glanced sideways at Annie, Troy, and Abedetron. "It's a bear costume with a waiter apron and hot food tray. When you lift the lid, confetti and balloons pop out that say, 'bad news!' It's very tasteful."

No one looked impressed. The dean turned back to Brittania, picking up where he left off. "But you just Brittania'd that plan."

"Did you just use my name to mean 'make a small mistake?'"

One of Jeffrey's feet broke free from its restraint, too.

"As you can see," the Dean gestured to Pierce, sputtering beneath Brittania's ferocious grip, "my friends are very loyal to me. And I have _all_ my friends here with me today! Even… Madame Shirley? How did you get here? I thought you got sucked into a rip in the time continuum."

She waved.

"Anyway, I have all my friends here today. And they won't let anything happen to me!"

"That's where you're wrong!" Annie broke formation and sprinted up to the great bell.

Pulling out a sharp knife from her bodice, she slashed Jeffrey's remaining restraints. He swung from the giant bell rope to land on the belfry floor beside Annie, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. (For balance. Obviously.)

In one swift motion, Annie peeled off the lifelike mask she had been wearing and dropped it to the floor.

Everyone gasped. "My God, she's been beautiful this whole time?!"

Annie beamed.

Instead of thick glasses, there were wide, angelic eyes. Instead of bushy hair, there were long silken locks. And instead of a fifth-grade boy's body there was… a, um, fully grown woman's one.

Troy dropped to one knee and aimed a musket at the pair. ("The pair" meaning Jeff and Annie. Not Annie's boobs. If that wasn't clear.)

"Put that thing away!" Dean Dangerous shrieked. "Annie? And Jeffrey?"

"That's right, Dean," Jeffrey announced. "I was never really yours. I was just using you to get close to Annie. And now, we don't need you anymore."

Annie laughed hysterically, sticking her chest out a little more for emphasis. "We set everything up! Even Jeffrey's kidnapping! Now, we have you all here in the same place. And we can rid the world of you in one easy go!"

"Ha!" Brittania laughed, still choking Piercenald out. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"Easy," Jeffrey said. "Annie reprogrammed Abedetron. When we give the word, he'll explode and blow this whole place to kingdom come."

"Fool!" Contessa cried. "If you blow us up, you'll die too."

"The good guys always find a way." Grabbing a long rope that was conveniently bundled up on the floor at his feet, Jeffrey wrapped it deftly around his left arm, lassoed it around a ceiling beam, and pulled it taut.

Then, holding Annie securely in the other arm, he leapt from the belfry, swinging out past the great old clock to safety.

"THE WOOOOORRRRDDDDDD!" Annie shouted as they sailed away.

"Oh shi…"

Abedetron exploded and a massive fireball burst from Big Ben, sending thousands of bricks tumbling to the streets of London below.

* * *

"How's it go-dean in here…?" Dean Pelton stumbled to a halt in the study room doorway, floored by the scene around him…

Abed was typing away on the laptop. Britta had Pierce literally choking to death in a headlock. Shirley was peeking over the back of the couch. Troy was kneeling on the floor, aiming a broomstick at Jeff and Annie.

Jeff was – unsurprisingly – shirtless and standing in a hero stance on top of the study table, one fist gripping an imaginary rope above his head and the other arm supporting Annie, who was reaching for something in the distance. Her left arm was wrapped behind Jeff's neck, but her face was turned behind her, arm stretched out toward the far wall.

The dean put a hand to his heart. "Word around the one functioning water fountain was that you all were reading my book. But that my words could inspire such creative role play..! Well, color me speechless."

"That's racist," Pierce sputtered, slapping Britta's arm until she let go of him.

"I mean, the commitment!" the dean continued. "Where did you even get a broomstick in here?"

"The vents," Troy said in what was – unfortunately – a very logical answer for Greendale.

"So," the dean began, covering his mouth and closing his eyes in anticipation. "What did you think?"

"We loved your book, Dean," Jeff said, helping Annie hop down off the table.

The dean splayed two open palms on Jeff's bare chest and gazed eagerly up into his eyes. "Really??"

"Well, with some minor character adjustments."

"You know, Dean," Pierce said. "I think my girl over at Random House can really make this a bestseller."

The dean nearly melted into a puddle.

"Wait, don't I get a chance to rewrite myself?" Britta asked.

"No."

"You guys," the dean wept. "I don't know what to say…"

"Would you like me to do a movie adaptation of _Dean Dangerous_?" Abed asked. "Starring all of us? Twenty six chapters and a movie?"

The dean put a hand to his chest again and wiped his nose on his wristwatch. "I would like nothing more."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for indulging me with this venture into the overdramatic world of Dean Dangerous! And stay tuned for more responses to the "Set Up" prompt from our awesome Discord writers!!


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